


A Stark Christmas Carol

by cole90210



Category: A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Christmas Carol Fusion, Christmas, Dead People, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Time Travel, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cole90210/pseuds/cole90210
Summary: It’s the time of year when multiple franchises take advantage of Dicken’s Christmas Carol being public domain – so why not the Avengers?Tony ‘Scrooge’ Stark is not feeling particularly Christmas-y, not when there are intergalactic threats breathing down his neck and no real way to protect the world from what’s coming.Surprisingly, this doesn’t sit well with Tony’s long deceased father, who organises a couple of visits to get his son back on the right path.
Relationships: Happy Hogan/Pepper Potts, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (implied), Natasha Romanov/Bruce Banner (implied), Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark (minor)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	1. Stave One: Howard was dead, to begin with

Tony was deep in thought, scribbling with his stylus on the holographic display. He was only distantly aware of others moving around him, all the workers down here knowing not to interrupt him – if he wanted their input, he would ask them.

He was down in the labs on the 21st floor, checking with a couple of engineers on the progress of the Hubble Hot Spot project when he had an idea to tweak their designed satellite array to boost signals for both radiation and radio signals. It would make for much more efficient monitoring of what was going on out there.

Unfortunately, NASA was being annoyingly reluctant to involve Stark Industries in software upgrades for the Hubble telescope that would allow them to monitor deep space for any threats. Tony was about two more pointless Government meetings away from just hacking it himself to install the upgrades.

Stark Industries were already constructing their own telescopes of course, the first due to launch in just two short months. But space was fucking big, so the more real estate they were regularly scanning, the safer the human race would be.

He sighed in frustration as he eyed the now amended specs. They were already so far behind the curve, and the team was taking too much time to get it right. He had recruited some of the brightest minds out there, he paid them overtime, they had the resources. And yet, here he was, having to intervene for them to keep the project moving.

He was idly wondering if the team needed a shake-up – perhaps some performance management or firing the weakest of the pack would inspire them to do what needed doing – when his thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey there Mr Stark!”

Tony looked up with raised eyebrows.

It was Cute Intern speaking to him. He was young, maybe still in college, brown hair and pale skin, with a perpetual smile and hero worship in his eyes.

He couldn’t remember the young man’s name, but he always greeted Tony warmly whenever they crossed paths, something not even the brownnose politicians of the office dared do when he was in one of his moods.

Luckily, he was sweet enough to get away with it. Tossing him a sneer and a sarcastic response would be like kicking a puppy.

“Sir, I wanted to give you the updates for the webbing. I think we’ve just about got the tensile strength to where you wanted it.” He indicated a case that when opened, was revealed to hold the prototype of the shooters.

“You’re on the web team?” he asked, surprised. It was one of the more promising little projects coming out of the 21st floor without his direct oversight.

“Yessir. It was uh- it was my thesis.” He admitted modestly, pink in his cheeks.

“Hmm. Alright, let’s see it.” He shut down his screens and swept across the labs to the demo room. It was reinforced to absorb sounds, low to medium impacts and minor explosions. Anything packing a big punch had to be tested upstate.

“Oh, sure!” the boy trotted after him enthusiastically, no doubt pleased to have the attention of the CEO of the company so unexpectedly.

Tony indicated with a gesture that Cute Intern should set up a demonstration, pulling out his phone to check his email in the meantime.

“Uh, sir?” his attention was recaptured.

Tony put his Starkphone away, watching as the young guy hastily set about creating a net with strategically aimed jets of web. It was established quickly, maybe 7 seconds. Then with a press of a button, a series of weights were dropped from the ceiling. Tony knew they varied from 200 to about 800 pounds. The web sagged slightly under the combined weight, but did not snap, nor ricochet the weights so violently that they bounced back up and out. If they were people, they would not suffer whiplash or any other injury.

“What’s your name kid?” he asked the boy watching him nervously.

“Peter sir, Peter Parker.”

“Well, Peter Parker, this is good work. Reach out to Pearson to organise some more tests upstate, I’d like to see how it does against a car and more significant rubble. I want you to get a whole pack together on the numbers too – you’re going to present it to the Board.”

Peter’s mouth was opened in an ‘o’. Tony smirked.

“Come see me tomorrow at 10, we’ll go through it together.” It was quite a generous offer – even Nick Fury struggled to get time in his calendar without weeks of notice, unless in the case of a potentially world-ending disaster. Peter being so pretty was only a bonus too – it was his mind Tony was more interested in.

“Oh, Mr Stark. Ah… tomorrow is… well, it’s Christmas.”

Oh. Right.

“You don’t have plans?” Peter asked softly, almost sympathetically.

Tony bristled slightly under the implied pity. “I don’t tend to take a lot of time off. The world kind of refuses to protect itself.”

Peter was chastised by Tony’s slightly terse words, looking away. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

Tony’s gesture was rather too dismissive. “Whatever. I take it you have plans that mean you won’t be able to attend a meeting with the owner of a multi-billion dollar company that could change your life forever?”

Peter was like a deer in headlights at the obviously leading question. Tony waited with cocked eyebrow for the apology followed by grovelling to keep the offer on the table.

“I’m really sorry, but I have somewhere to be.”

Was this kid for real?

“Just, the Community Centre in Queens, near where me and my aunt live, they do a Christmas day thing. Like we all bring food and gifts, and less fortunate people can bring their families… it’s warm and fun and they even put on this Christmas concert thing, for the kids-“

Tony only allowed this to go on for so long because he was so shocked that this kid thought it was appropriate to tell him all about his ad hoc soup kitchen in so much detail.

“You know, they always welcome more-“

“I’m gonna stop you there. Any requests for funding need to go directly through the Maria Stark Foundation. I can’t just be writing cheques for anyone who asks, you understand.”

Peter was properly embarrassed now. “Oh no, I meant-“

“Send the request to Pearson, write up the specs. Shoot it through to my email when you’re done, one of my assistants will get back to you.” Tony was already walking away, pulling his Starkphone back out and tapping away at his email.

“I will – t-thank you Mister Stark! And sorry!” he called out to his back.

*******************************************8

Tony had abandoned the 21st floor and the rampant ‘Happy Holiday’ wishing to work in peace in his private lab upstairs.

Over the last couple of years, Tony had expanded the lab pretty drastically. The top two floors, previously residential, were more lab than living space now. The top floor, closest to his bedroom, was entirely dedicated to the Ultron program.

Pepper had begged him to change the name, but he refused. She was welcome to keep the name off the books and out of the media, but it felt like a betrayal to rename the program just to make himself more comfortable. The principles of Ultron, a shield around the world, was just as relevant now as it had been five years ago. Certainly it had its failings… thinking about Sokovia and the people like Charlie Spencer who would not be celebrating Christmas this year because of him still gnawed at his soul.

That’s why he could not stop working, would not rest until he had figured out how to keep everyone safe. If he stopped for every holiday, weekends, the days when Pepper had asked him “please, just slow down” – that was time banked for an attack, an attack they were woefully ill-equipped for. He knew other people didn’t share his urgency – even Bruce had to walk away from the Ultron program. But he would not.

It was midnight by the time he powered down the displays and headed to the dark, sterile kitchen to pour himself a drink. He wondered idly if he should power through the night or drink himself to sleep.

Whichever he chose, he knew the wrong course of action was to stand here in the dark in the loneliest possible caricature he could construct. What a classic Tony move, to isolate himself from everyone he knew and then wallow in it like he was the victim.

Pepper and Happy had invited him out to California to their house to celebrate Christmas. He ignored the first couple of overtures until Pepper convinced Friday to patch her through, where he got a lecture before turning down her offer. It was great that her and Happy were together now – he wanted happiness for them. But being around them now was hard. He didn’t think he could be with them, look them in the eye and pretend to enjoy the holiday.

He knew Rhodey was headed to Cali too. He had been vocal about his disapproval of Tony forsaking the holidays and his friends. They had a massive blow out about Tony’s “self-destructive tendencies” and had not spoken since.

He would try not to think about Steve and the Avengers at all. That little ‘found-family’ had blown up spectacularly, culminating in the events of the HYDRA facility in Siberia.

So, standing here, thinking about all the ways he had failed, would achieve nothing.

Back to work it was.

Tony was refilling his Scotch to take it back to the lab with him when he heard a scratching sound.

He turned, looking around the empty penthouse. Nothing.

He did not think he had mice or other harmless critters that could make a sound like that.

He silently walked to the island bench, reaching under the ledge where he kept a set of bracelets that turned into gauntlets – updated, but useful since the time of Loki.

He heard the sound again, from the living room. The gauntlets activated with a quiet, high whine, and he stalked out with his hands raised defensively. There was a light emanating from behind a pillar, he cautiously stepped around to face the intruder and interrogate them on _how the fuck they infiltrated his tower_.

The face he recognised, yet it was the strangest thing he had ever seen.

“Dad?”

Sure enough, it was Howard in front of him. Tony was looking right at him, yet his gaze went straight through. If he looked up ‘ghost’ in a story book, he was sure it would match this description. Bright white and translucent, making the centrally heated room cold and eerie.

“Hello son.”

“What the fuck are you?” Tony’s eyes darted around, looking for projectors or anything else that would indicate this was a hologram.

“I’m your father, so you can put down your guns.”

“Fri?”

“Boss, I’m not reading any tech, nor any disturbances in the perimeter that would indicate anything had entered.” Friday’s voice echoed from the ceiling.

“You’ve certainly progressed Stark Industries since I was around. Virtual butlers? Gauntlets – that’s arc reactor energy I’m detecting, right? I knew you’d figure it out.”

This was getting stranger and stranger. That was pride he detected in the fake-Howard ghost illusion.

“Why don’t we skip the theatrics and you tell me what you are and what the person who created you is after.” He demanded.

The ghost moved with a scraping sound, which came from the chains that were looped around its wrists and ankles.

“I know – annoying, isn’t it? Just another way I’m paying for the sins of my life.” Ghost-Howard had a tumbler of liquid, equally white and glowing as the rest of him, which he sipped now.

“Look, we’re not exactly swimming in time here. Tonight is going to be a big night for you, so let’s just accept that I am who I say I am and move through the rest of the exposition, ok champ?”

Tony just stared at him stonily.

It sighed – a pretty deep breath for someone who was dead. 

“Well at least I know you’re listening, which is more than I can say of when I was alive. Hear me when I say – I screwed up.”

Tony sneered. “And that’s how I know for sure you’re a hallucination or a piece of tech – my dad would never say that.”

Ghost-Howard snorted, looking into his tumbler. “Yeah I know. Add it to the laundry list of shit I fucked up.”

This was way too raw and vulnerable for Tony to allow someone to prod at.

“I’ve been allowed to come back to talk to you about the path you’re on. It’s the same one as mine and Tony, it’s the wrong one.”

Ghost-Howard stepped closer to him and Tony could not for the life of him figure out how someone was faking this.

“You’re letting the work consume you, just like I did. You’re meant for more Tony. The work matters, but it’s not everything.”

Tony felt a lump in his throat but he refused to show weakness. Still-

“The work _is_ everything. I have to protect them all.” He ground out.

The specter looked at him sadly. “You get that from your mother you know. Your kind heart.”

The thing that was pretending to be Howard shifted, as though getting back on track. “Your single mindedness is hurting people. You may think you’re preserving life, but you’ll find there’s little point if you don’t actually _live_ it while you can. Now, I know you’re going to need more convincing than this – I would.” The figure smirked at him.

“That’s why I’m not the only visitor you’re going to have tonight. This is your last chance Tony, to understand what’s important, to see where you’re headed and choose to do better.”

That stung. Even his fake father was unhappy with Tony – arc reactor and ‘kind heart’ aside.

“You hear that Fri? High alert for any other ‘visitors’ that might come a-knockin’.”

Ghost-Howard stepped closer to Tony, seeming unconcerned by the threat of Tony’s gauntlets. Tony’s nostrils flared and he faltered slightly when he realised that he smelt like Howard had, the Tom Ford aftershave and hint of cigarette smoke.

“My boy, you are a better man than me – always have been. You have a chance to turn it around and be happy. Please take it. You deserve it.”

With a final half smile and a tilt of his glass, the specter of his father faded into nothingness.

“Fri? I want full diagnostics of every square inch of this room from , and every second of that exchange, and full review of every movement in the last 2 weeks. You figure out what that was.” He said, trying not to let his voice shake.

“Yes Boss.”

He did not remove the gauntlets, but headed back to the kitchen to have another fortifying drink.

He did a double take as he walked in, the gauntlets picking up on his pulse and firing up again.

Looks like he already had another visitor.


	2. Stave Two: Ghost of Christmas Past

Steve Rogers was standing in his kitchen, leaning into the open fridge. It was exactly like a scene he had experienced many times before – the serum made Steve’s appetite voracious, so digging through his fridge for a snack was second nature – only, this time he could still partially see the contents through Steve’s translucent body.

He was not white and pale like Ghost-Howard, but he did almost… glow.

“What the _fuck_.”

Steve turned around to face him, a little smile on his face, even as he warned, “Language.”

“Fri, I thought you were going to be on the look out for visitors.” Tony complained, his eyes not leaving the ghostly Steve for a moment.

“I was Boss. If I weren’t seeing it on camera, I would not believe Captain Rogers was in front of you. My readings are showing nothing.” She sounded frustrated for artificial intelligence.

“I’m not strictly _real_ , not in the flesh-and-blood sense.” Steve admitted almost bashfully.

“You a ghost too? What, did the Winter Solider do you in as well?” Tony asked coldly.

Steve flinched at the barb, sadness overtaking his expression.

“No, I’m not dead. I’m here because I have a job to do. You just see me this way because your subconscious regards this body as the best representation for what we’re about to do.”

“My subconscious? I didn’t realise I was so red, blue and white on the inside.”

Steve chuckled slightly. “I know I’m not the real Steve but… I’ve missed you Tony.”

Tony shook his head. “This is officially bizarre. Did someone poison the scotch?”

“Your bio readings are showing no abnormalities, aside from a slightly fast pulse Boss.” FRIDAY helpfully added.

“I’m here to help you on the first part of your journey. There’s things you have to see.” Steve extended a hand to him, patiently waiting for Tony to take it.

“I don’t have my passport on me, so you’ll have to come back another time. Don’t forget to knock in future.”

That seemed to amuse this Steve more than caution him.

“Tony, you can take my hand or I can take yours. Let’s go with the easy option.”

“The ‘easy option’ is for me to blast you back to whatever Sixth Sense, Jiminy Cricket hole you came from.” He warned.

“It won’t work,” Steve told him patiently. “I’m here to guide you through your past Christmases. You need to see where you’ve come from, and I’m afraid no amount of blasting is going to get rid of me.”

The still smiling Steve waved his hand _through_ the kitchen bench, to prove that Tony could not affect him on a physical level.

Tony inched closer, eyes trained on the way his hand phased through the solid marble.

He barely saw him move before his other hand was clamped gently but firmly on Tony’s right arm. Suddenly he was much more solid.

“Let’s go.”

With just that warning, Tony felt himself _yanked_ , his feet leaving the ground and the room around him disappearing into a bright light. He was motion sick and disoriented by the time he landed back on his feet, Steve’s grip on him the only constant he had to lean on.

“Christ, what the hell did you do?” Tony groaned, stumbling as Steve released him.

He looked around, realising he was in a different house now. He could hear people through the doors to the right, and music. Hardly an intimidating lair, certainly nothing on the cave in Afghanistan.

Wait, he recognised that wallpaper.

“Where… is this…”

Steve smiled at him over his shoulder and slipped through the ajar doors, Tony compelled to follow.

It was his childhood home. Tony was walking through one of the glittering Christmas parties his parents used to host. The event was black tie – it was always black tie – and there were stunning gowns, flutes of champagne and enough hard liquor flowing to open a distillery.

He looked down at the old t-shirt he was wearing. The first rule of time travel was not to be noticed, and this was definitely something that would get him noticed.

He spotted Steve’s blonde head weaving through the crowd, but curiously, no one was turning to look at him. Captain freaking America back from the dead and he didn’t get a glance? At the very least the wives would have been looking – a Stark Christmas party was as famous for the dark corridors to sneak away to have illicit encounters with a member of staff or a colleague’s spouse as much as it was about the networking and prestige of being invited.

Tony’s suspicions about his present state were confirmed when a waiter walked through him.

“Fuck. I swear, if Steve has got me killed for this…”

He stalked after his time travel guide, finding him standing by the large, lit up tree.

“I’m not going to explain to you how it’s possible. I don’t even know myself. I’m not smart about this kind of stuff like you are Tony.” Steve smiled sweetly at him again, respect and admiration clear. It made Tony uncomfortable, a flashback to that brief period of peace they had been Loki and Ultron, that camaraderie that they lost.

He sighed in annoyance. “Ok, I’ll lean into it – for now.” He warned. “Why are we _here_?”

“This is how you spent Christmas as a child.”

“Yeah. These parties were for my dad’s friends and business associates. They weren’t about Christmas, they were about patting each other on the back for all the money they had made and putting on a show about who was in the inner circle and who wasn’t. More deals happened in this room than a month of board meetings. I was allowed to come down for a couple of hours if I wore my little tuxedo and acted like the dutiful son.”

Tony looked around, spotting his father holding court with a group of men, Obadiah being one of them. He clenched his fists, wondering if he would feel a ghostly punch the back of his head.

“We never had any family traditions, unless you count my dad excusing himself from the gift exchange Christmas morning so he could work on his latest weapon design. Hell, dad told me that Santa was a bullshit construct designed to sell more toys when I was three. I would give a list to one of his secretaries of parts I needed and they’d be wrapped up for me by professionals and I would spend most of the day building my own toys. That was fun at least.”

Steve hummed. “Howard always did struggle with perspective. What about your mother?”

Tony moved slowly away from the tree to the piano. There was his mother, taking a break from the schmoozing to play a Christmas carol. She looked happy, and so beautiful. As he walked closer, he realised he was there too. He must have been about six, in the custom tailored tuxedo he always tried to lose the bowtie to. Little Tony was leaning into his mother’s side, watching her play. He snuck a finger on to the keys, pressing a couple as he tried to mimic his mother’s movements. They were off key and out of time, but Maria just smiled down at him. His father would have berated him for interrupting, but his mother never had anything but warm encouragement for him.

“She tried. She would buy thoughtful gifts, and always exclaim over whatever I built her-“

“You built your mother Christmas presents?”

“Yeah. This year I think it was a recording device in a diamond and pearl necklace. Gaudy thing it was – it had to be big to allow for the chips. But she wore it all the time, to parties in dinners, so that when she heard new music, she could record it and recreate it at home for me on the piano.”

“That’s… incredibly sweet.”

Tony felt tears pricking at his eyes at the memory he had not thought about for so long. Even in his father’s absences and all the commitments she had with Stark Industries and various foundations she was on the board of, she would always carve out some special moments for her son. His favourite times were sitting at the kitchen bench, with Maria and Jarvis making breakfast, playing with whatever his mother had given him and basking in her praise for whatever he had given her.

“What am I supposed to learn from this?” he turned to face the pensive Steve.

“You experienced both versions of Christmas as a child. The one where the spirit of the holidays is forgotten because there was business to take care of, because the work never stopped. And the other that you treasured so dearly, with your mother and Jarvis.”

“And then they died.” Tony said bluntly.

Steve looked at him sadly. He reached out and settled a comforting arm on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing once. Then the world was ripped away again.

“DUDE, warn me.” Tony exclaimed as he stumbled, his vision clearing to take in the new place Steve had landed them.

He realised it was the townhouse in New York this time. Tony was on the couch sleeping (passed out), and Maria was playing the piano nearby.

Tony’s face hardened.

“I’ve actually already had this therapeutic experience, thank you.”

It was just after the last Christmas, the day his parents would get in the car with the last of the super solider serum and be run off the road by the Winter Solider and killed.

“These events cost you a lot.” Steve observed.

“My parents’ lives?” he clarified coldly.

“And then me, and the rest of the Avengers.”

Tony ground his teeth.

“What does your friend murdering my parents have to do with Christmas?” he demanded.

“Tony, I’m a spirit, I see into your soul. I know what you’re thinking. I know you don’t blame Bucky, not really. Just like I know that you understand just how much I regret what happened – about as much as you do.”

How could he retort?

“You’ve held onto the bad, and that’s not only stopped you moving forward, it’s stopped you living.”

And wasn’t that typical. When he thought of Christmas, he thought of his father missing the holiday. He so rarely dusted off those memories of his mother. Was he doing the same with the Avengers? Wasn’t it _fair_ to linger on the betrayal and deception?

“There’s one more.”

Steve extended his hand once more, and this time Tony took it, eager to move on from the cold goodbye he would soon give his parents, the last time he spoke to them.

The journey was easier this time. They were in the Malibu house. He watched as a younger version of himself stumbled down the stairs, bleary eyed and obviously hungover. He was in just sweatpants, with an unmarred chest – a couple of years before Afghanistan then.

Steve and Tony followed him into the kitchen, where Pepper and Happy were speaking at the counter.

“Merry Christmas boss!” Happy called, flipping a pancake with a smile.

“Happy Christmas Tony.” Pepper said, more sedately but with a sweet smile.

Tony grunted, making his way to the coffee machine. “It’ll be merrier once I have caffeine.” He grumbled.

“Pep, there’s… ah… I want to say Ashley? Maybe Tanya? No way of telling. Can you…” he indicated her to head up to the bedroom.

“I take if you don’t want me to invite your guest to Christmas breakfast?” she asked drily, her holiday cheer temporarily shelved.

He sipped his coffee as he watched her walk away to do his dirty work. The real – or rather, modern- Tony cringed at his treatment of her.

“Here you go Boss.” Happy was sliding a wrapped package over to Tony, who eyed it wearily.

“I thought I said no presents.” Tony said, picking it up and shaking it.

“Pepper got you something too. Be more polite when she gives it to you, she put in more effort.” Happy warned him, serving up a plate of food.

“Can’t stay for breakfast, things to do. Thanks Hap.” He indicated the parcel carelessly, tucking it under his arm and picking up his mug of coffee to take off to the lab.

“You can’t take 20 minutes to have breakfast?” Happy asked, annoyed.

“Sorry! Check the top left cabinet.” He called out over his shoulder as he left the room.

Tony and Steve stayed in the kitchen, Tony guiltily noting Happy’s sad sigh and despondent picking at bacon. Pepper came back, barely glancing around the room to realiseTony was not there.

“Work in the lab?” she asked defeatedly.

“Yeah.”

Happy pushed a plate over to her, then went to check the cabinet Tony had pointed him toward. He opened it, revealing two small parcels, professionally wrapped, and a note. He brought them back to the bench, reading aloud to Pepper.

“ _I said no gifts, but I’m sure you both won’t listen to me because you never do. Won’t be as good as whatever Pepper put on the credit card for you both, but still_. TS”

Pepper and Happy shared a knowing smile, but didn’t open them right away.

“Do you think he’ll be done by lunch?” Happy asked.

“I think we won’t be seeing Tony until the 26th.” Pepper informed him.

You could practically feel atmosphere deflate, a sadness taking over them as they put aside their unopened packages and started their breakfast.

“There’s a Rolex and a fountain pen from Tiffany’s in there.” Tony broke the silence, though only Steve could hear.

“Looks like they cared more about the fact that you _got_ them a gift than what it was. I wonder how much happier they would have been if you had hung around.”

‘A lot’ was clearly the answer, but Tony did not voice it.

“Yes, well it’s not quite a villain origin story, but I get it. Are you done?”

Tony knew his defensive snappiness was rather redundant, as he was now pretty certain that Steve was a construct of his own mind. But while acknowledging his own shortcomings was commonplace, confronting the emotions they wrought was not something he was comfortable articulating, even to himself.

“Yes, I think we’re done.” Steve said softly, taking the hand Tony stuck out.

With a spin he was back in the penthouse. He braced himself against the kitchen counter, but upon looking around, could not find Steve.

Tony breathed deeply, wondering if he should get that drink.

His father had said _visitors_.

He was not done yet.


	3. Stave Three: Ghost of Christmas Present

Tony had placed himself on the edge of a chair in the corner of the living room, his apprehension making him overly cautious and paranoid. He might not have shrapnel in his chest anymore, but another ghost sneaking up behind him would not do his heart any good.

He had also made sure to take a sample of the scotch he had been drinking for some additional testing once this trip was finished.

It was about half an hour after he… returned, when he heard the clicking of heels against the floor. His heart leapt in his chest, the sound so familiar but so absent of late that he could not help the physical reaction.

Pepper walked around the corner in her stilettos, her red hair loose and hanging over her shoulder as she tilted her head at him with a smile.

“Hi Tony.”

“You’re not really here are you?” he asked. Pepper hadn’t been in the residence for months.

She shook her head.

“Another Christmas Guide?” he asked rhetorically.

“You’ve seen your past Christmases, now you’re going to see the present.”

Tony frowned. “What, you’re going to show me Christmas at yours and Happy’s tomorrow, just because I can’t make it this year?”

“For a while.” She admitted. “But there’s more for you to see.”

“Yes, that’s becoming quite the catchphrase of the night.” He grumbled.

He heaved himself up, and as he stood, he realised he was now standing in a different room. The sun was shining through the windows, the ocean on the horizon, and he looked over to see Pepper, Happy and Rhodey carrying dishes to the large table, festively set in front of him.

“Ghost Steve needs to take some lessons from you.” He commented to the Pepper of his subconscious, where she stood invisible across from him.

“It’s your belief in my competency that made the journey so smooth. Thank you for the confidence.” She commented.

“Ok, it’s all getting a bit too meta.” Was he capable of getting a migraine in ghost form?

As before, the people they were observing seemed to have no knowledge that Tony was there. They all seemed in high spirits, tossing around jokes and easy smiles. They wasted no time on ceremony as they started serving the food.

The only sign that things weren’t perfect was the empty chair at the spare place setting at the table.

“All of us knew you wouldn’t be here, but they still hoped that maybe you’d have a last minute change of heart.” Pepper told him.

“It’s not- I’ve got a lot of projects, important ones. They know that.” Tony said, weaker than he would have if it were really Pepper he was talking to.

“We all tried to call you this morning.” Pepper went on, not looking at him as she piled on the guilt. “You let the calls go through to voicemail because you were in the lab. I wished you a Merry Christmas and told you that you were welcome to join us at any time. Happy told you to get your butt to California because you were going to make me cry. Rhodey left a long string of creative curses.”

No matter how long he knew these people, his family, there was always a part of Tony that thought they were going to leave him behind at some point. Seeing that it was not relief but annoyance and sadness that they felt at his absence made him just a little more convinced that he had always a place here, if he made time to fill it.

“Pepper, wine?” Rhodey asked, hovering a bottle of red over one of the expensive pieces of stemware.

“Oh, none for me thanks.”

Tony picked up on the tiny little smile that tugged on her lips, and the way Happy’s chest puffed out slightly while he did not bother suppressing his own grin.

“… wait.” Rhodey looked between the two of them shrewdly. “Pepper, are you…”

She smiled at her husband, squeezing the hand Happy placed over hers. “We wanted to wait for Tony, but… yes. We’re pregnant.”

Rhodey exclaimed and then they were all on their feet again, hugging each other and laughing, speaking over top of each other in excitement.

Tony was struck with a bolt of melancholy, but surprisingly it was not due to the news. He had his chance with Pepper and fucked it up. He was just glad she was still willing to have him in her life. That her and Happy ended up together was fantastic, if a little awkward at first. Though a few years ago he would have spiralled into a depression and binge drinking at the idea of Pepper being pregnant with a child that was not his, now he just felt like a piece of shit that he wasn’t there for their announcement.

The scene began to blur, a combination of the unshed tears in his eyes and being gently transported to another scene.

He sniffed, readying himself for what was most likely going to be either a vision of him working alone in the lab or a view of what the ex-Avengers were up to in their hideaway this Christmas morn.

But he saw neither.

Him and Pepper were standing on the doorstep of a large brick building, looking like it might have dated back to the 50s or 60s – not the best time for architecture. They were in a city somewhere, judging by the ambient noise.

Pepper led him inside, through a warren of corridors until they were standing in a small commercial kitchen that looked like it had been built on a tight budget.

He glanced over the handful of faces there, not seeing anyone he recognised, until-

“Cute Intern?”

There he was, Peter Parker, wearing a _ridiculous_ hat, the type with felt elf years on the sides and a jingle bell on the tip. In the warm kitchen, he could get away with just a t-shirt, which was printed with three periodic table tiles for Holmium, one with a little cartoon Santa hat – ‘Ho Ho Ho’ indeed. He looked ludicrous and so young, but the bright grin that reached his eyes and pink cheeks made it endearing.

“Honey, can you grab that knife for me?” a pretty woman, maybe 40, with dark brown hair was talking to Peter.

“Sure thing Aunt May.”

Surprisingly Attractive Aunt bumped her hip into Peter’s when he came back to her side, an easy affection between the two.

“This is his community centre thing?” he asked unnecessarily as the two worked over a couple of platters, simple sandwiches and cheese and crackers that looked like they were destined for children.

“Did you end up inviting Ned, or MJ?” May asked him.

“No, MJ is still in Philadelphia, and Ned had family stuff. But…”

Peter trailed off, a half-smile on his face.

“But what? What’s got you smiling like that?” asked his intrigued Aunt.

“I almost invited Tony Stark.” He admitted, with some amusement.

“Since _when_ are you chatting with _Tony Stark_?!”

“The web-shooters trial? That was with Mr Stark.”

“Huh. That’s cool I guess.”

“It’s _very_ cool. He really liked it May, it was awesome!” he gushed.

Tony smirked. Nice to see he could still collect some fan boys outside of the Iron Man suit. Especially cute, smart, competent ones.

“Well, I’m sure he had his holidays planned out months ago, probably a gala or two, maybe in Paris or somewhere spectacular. Though how anyone would be able to say ‘no’ to you is beyond me.” She poked at his dimple, making the boy playfully swat her and flush.

“Yeah…”

Huh. Peter knew he did not have plans. Made for a fun little trivia fact, the glamourous Tony Stark was a lonely old bachelor with only his work to hold on to. Peter must be pretty loyal to the job to not mention it, not even allude to it.

“Shame though – I wonder what The Tony Stark would have thought about little Chris and Luke putting on the Avengers sketch for the concert? I’ve heard it’s good, second only to the Christmas carol medley finale.” She joked.

“Ah, May…” Peter was more subdued now. “I don’t know if I can stick around. I kind of have to get back to the lab this afternoon.”

“What? Honey, it’s Christmas! You can’t take the whole day off?”

“No, I know, it’s just – Mr Stark really wanted the write up for the web shooters, and there’s still tests I have to run to flesh out the specs. And then there’s my normal intern load, I can’t fall behind because then they’ll fire me-“

“Oh sweetie, I’m not mad! I’m just worried – you work so hard.” She wrapped an arm around Peter, pulling him in tight.

Tony shifted guiltily. The specs on the webs weren’t _that_ urgent that he had to tear a volunteer away from a fucking children’s charity show. But he had certainly made it clear what he thought of Peter’s priorities away from the lab. No wonder the kid was too nervous to stay away and risk the CEO’s bad side.

“I’m fine, living the dream.” At least his smile seemed mostly genuine. “We gotta get these trays out though.”

“Ah, always keeping the show running. Yeah, let’s do it.”

Peter, May and the rest of the volunteers gathered up the food and headed out to the makeshift dining room. There were at least a hundred people in large hall, half of them children. Tony did some quick sums – food portions may not be the equivalent to quantum physics, but he was no slouch in any type of mathematics. There would barely be enough food for the people gathered. Not due to lack of effort, that was clear – but a dozen volunteers with what was obviously limited resources couldn’t hope to generate a true feast for all these families.

He wondered if Peter had eaten at home, or if he was going to skip Christmas lunch so that others could eat.

“He made an application through the Maria Stark Foundation.”

Tony almost jumped, somehow forgetting that his version of Pepper was with him, showing him this scene.

“It was well-written, done plenty in advance. But this endeavour isn’t big enough in scale and won’t generate enough publicity. He got a generic rejection letter from one of the admin assistants.”

Tony frowned. “The whole point of the Foundation is so that people can get help, especially grassroots community programs.”

“It was, when it was created, and when I ran it.” Pepper explained. “But a lot of Stark Industries auxiliary funds have been directed to R&D for planetary security and incident clean up and rehabilitation. It’s impacted more and more on the Foundation over time. Now they have to be more cold and strategic about what projects they take on.”

Tony bristled under the hard truth. “I hear the judgement in your tone. Are you suggesting we _shouldn’t_ be spending that money on saving the world?”

It was hard to remember he was arguing with himself – he supposed his subconscious could have reasoned out that the money for the Iron Legion and other branches of the Ultron program came from somewhere and the Maria Stark Foundation was likely one of those places… but he certainly hadn’t been _told_.

“I’m suggesting that maybe there’s more than one way to save the world. Or the people living in it, at least.”

Tony felt like even more a failure. With just a word to FRIDAY, Tony could have transferred Peter a few thousand from one of his own personal accounts. What a difference that would have made to these people, who probably didn’t care much about the next threat loitering in deep space when they couldn’t put food on the table for their children.

“Fuck.” He cursed, spinning on his heel to walk away from the cheerful Peter, helping one of the children pick the prettiest snowman cookie.

He heard Pepper’s heels clicking behind him steadily as he stormed out into the street, mostly empty given it was noon on Christmas day.

“No matter what I do, I manage to fuck it up. I’m the world’s fucking worst juggler, I always manage to let shit slip.” He was pacing agitatedly.

“Tony, that’s not true.”

“It’s not? Because so far tonight has been a review of all the people I’ve lost and disappointed, the impact I could have had but _didn’t_ , and even with all that “sacrifice”, I’m not any fucking closer to protecting the world-“ He grasped at his chest, feeling a panic attack coming on.

He bent in half, focusing on breathing. He felt Pepper’s arms wrap around him, the warm pressure reassuring even though he knew it was imagined.

“You don’t realise it, but you always take too much responsibility when things don’t go perfectly.” She murmured to him.

“Tonight isn’t about punishing you Tony. It’s for you to learn, and maybe along the way you can figure out how to give yourself a break.”

Her tone was painfully fond, a soft hand grazing his cheek, imploring him to look up at her.

“I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you.”

Tony inhaled shakily. “I drove you away.” He choked out. He didn’t blame her for walking away, for quitting on him. It was the smart thing to do.

Pepper sighed. “Partly. I couldn’t watch you destroy yourself. But honey, we weren’t meant to last forever. Our love will last a lifetime, but our time together ended when it needed to. We are destined for other things.”

“You get the secrets of the universe with these strangely specific Christmas powers?” he asked sardonically.

Pepper shrugged but did not answer, except to say, “I know you’re going to feel the temptation to linger on that destiny comment and think I meant something horrible like you dying as a martyr in a battle for the fate of the world. I don’t.” she finished bluntly.

“Well then, reveal your secrets, all-seeing one.” He weakly joked.

“Good things are coming to you Tony, if you just open up your heart to them.” Pepper dropped a kiss on his temple.

“Come on, let’s get you home. You’ve still got one more trip to make, and you should rest before then.”

Tony held Pepper’s hand as she returned him to the penthouse. When the warmth of her hand left his, the ghost fading away, it didn’t leave him feeling hollow and missing Pepper like he so often did when he let himself stop and think. It felt like letting go- of what they had been and what they had lost.

Tony felt strangely at peace with it as he grabbed one of the rarely used yoga mats and laid it out shakily to sit down and practice some of the breathing exercises Bruce had taught him to help with his panic attacks.

Whether this was truly a supernatural experience or hallucinations from his own subconscious, he was glad for the closure.


	4. Stave Four: Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come

Tony was physically feeling better but still anxious as he sat with a bouncing knee on one of the stools. At least he knew that he was only expecting _one_ more visitor. He had seen past, the soon-to-be present… one could safely assume his next trip was to the future. Though he doubted his next ghost would show up in a DeLorean, this view might at least be interesting or informative, as well as depressing as hell.

The first sign that he was no longer alone was the sudden drop in temperature. He could see his breath and felt a shiver go down his spine. His anxiety turned to straight up fear and he was glad he was still wearing his gauntlet bracelets.

With sudden, stunning clarity, he knew something was behind him. He had seen no movement and heard no sound, but he could _feel_ it.

He turned to face it and took a step back, though he hated to show his fear to an enemy.

It was a dark, hooded figure. It was humanoid in shape, but he couldn’t make out any distinguishing features – man, woman, old, young. The face was entirely shrouded, pitch black that no angle of light seemed to penetrate.

It did not speak.

“You’re ominous as fuck aren’t you?” he said glibly, his defensive snark coming out.

Still, it did not speak.

Tony swallowed in a way he hoped was subtle. “So far all my sherpas have been people I know but pretty symbolic. So, whatever _this_ means?” He gestured to the whole ensemble. “Is honestly freaking the fuck out of me.”

Nothing. But then there was a ripple, almost as if he was seeing the figure through water for a brief moment, then it changes.

Now it was Natasha standing in front of him.

“… I don’t know if that is less scary.” He said.

The thing that looked like Natasha – it still felt different from Steve and Pepper – smiled at him with painted red lips and walked passed him. ‘Walk’ didn’t even seem like the right word – ‘float while still moving its legs’ seemed more apt. It paused to look over its shoulder, waiting for him to follow.

He stepped cautiously after it. Unlike the other ghosts, he was not instantly in another place. He walked behind this spectre for at least 5 minutes – even as the walls faded to fog, the ground below him was sturdy. The march was ominous, but the idea of stopping and being left in this fogged, no man’s land was unendurable.

Finally the fog started to clear, and Tony walked into a room. It looked to be in a little cottage – old, definitely European, likely British. Tony had to stand just outside the low archway as there was barely enough space in the dining nook. Steve’s big body took up an imposing amount of space, as did Bucky next to him. His friend Sam wasn’t a tiny guy either, and Vision, Wanda and Natasha rounded out a group that if they were any less close, would have no business crammed into a space like this.

“Would I be correct in assuming you’re showing me some point in the future right now?” he asked nervously.

The Natasha ghost nodded just once at him.

There were no clues to the year – Steve had a beard though, which was bizarre. They seemed to be enjoying their Christmas, a small gift exchange happening. Nothing overly expensive. Seems like they were still on the run.

Tony still didn’t know if he was ready to forgive… but the idea of these men and women being fugitives from the law even _years_ after the airport debacle? These people had saved hundreds of thousands of people, maybe millions between them. They were _good_.

He always figured that it was a matter of time until the bullshit ‘outlaw’ status was repealed – likely in the event of a world-ending disaster when the governments of the world had no choice but to ask Steve and his loyalists to save them.

He shivered as the ghost brushed back passed him, walking into the kitchen. He followed, expecting another long walk, but when they passed through the back door, they were already in their next location.

It was Pepper’s office. She was behind the desk, her stilettos kicked off as she spoke into the tiny Stark designed earpiece.

“That is proprietary technology, only to be used in the event of a catastrophic, global emergency involving an alien civilisation or technology – no, I’m quoting the agreement Terrance. It was never intended to be weaponised for the newest, upstart super-human to show up on SHIELD’s doorstep. It cannot be allowed.”

She was using her furious, ‘no-nonsense’ business voice and though she looked angry, she looked more tired.

“I thought Christmas was your schtick?” he asked.

The thing that looked like Natasha tilted its head to the desk. He walked around to Pepper’s side and squinted at the computer screen. ‘Thurs, 24th Dec’ alternated with ‘6:25’ on the lower ribbon.

Scanning the rest of her desktop for any possible clue of the year, he stepped closer to examine the newspaper she had. Classic Pepper, still liked hard copy print.

It was open and folded over, did not show the date. A headline caught his eye though.

‘Stark still in the Dark’ cont from front page. A quick scan revealed that Stark Industries was not doing so well whenever they were. Declining stock prices and rapidly decreased timelines on product debuts. There was a quote in there comparing them to Apple?! The insult!

Seems like the world was turning ok – enough for SHIELD bureaucrats to risk Pepper’s wrath in co-opting some of his defence tech for smaller picture, homegrown threats. Had he spiralled so far down his obsessive, Ultron path that he had let the company down?

“Set up a time with our Legal department, I’m done repeating myself.” Pepper ended the call abruptly, tossing the earpiece onto the desk with a sigh.

Not two minutes later, Pepper’s phone lit up, but this time it brought a smile to her face as she answered.

Happy’s face appeared on the screen, a bright grin and ‘Hi Honey!’ causing Pepper to visibly relax.

“Hey, how are the preparations going at home?”

Before Happy could answer, another face appeared at the bottom of the screen. It was a little girl with dark hair, maybe 5 years old. She was adorable.

“Mummy, will you be home in time to make cookies for Santa?” she asked, climbing up Happy’s lap to get her whole face on camera.

Pepper’s smile faltered and her eyes dipped. Tony felt a wave of sympathy – she had to find a way to tell her hopeful daughter that mum was going to miss what was obviously one of their family rituals because she had to work late.

“Morgan you know mummy isn’t much of a cook – I mean, baking is not one of mummy’s many, _many_ talents. How about we get a batch going and she can be our taste tester when she gets home?” Happy asked cheerfully – almost too cheerfully, covering for Pepper so she didn’t have to say no.

“Ok daddy.” Morgan said, allowing his compromise but not necessarily happy about it.

“Sorry baby. I can’t wait to taste your cookies! And I’m going to make sure I’m home before bedtime, ok?”

Little Morgan nodded, leaning back into her dad.

“Ok baby, I love you. I love you both.” She said, blowing a kiss to the phone.

“Love you too honey. See you later tonight.” Came Happy’s comforting voice.

When she hung up, Pepper rested her head in her hands, a sign of defeat he had never seen from Pepper before. It lasted only moments before she took a deep breath and got stuck right back in it, pulling up a her email to attend to the 14 extremely high priority emails, 22 high importance emails and 68 other emails her assistants had flagged for her attention.

“This is ridiculous.” Tony exclaimed, frustrated. However, he was putting the pieces together from what he could read on her desktop. She was working to keep Stark Industries afloat, and the sharks were evidentially circling. Behind on contracts, sales down, glitches and prototype deadlines out of control…

“Can you show me what happened?” he asked the ghost that brought him to this future.

She walked toward the door to Pepper’s office, Tony following impatiently.

She had led them into a lab – most likely on the 21st floor of the New York tower. It was dark out now, and only a handful of people remained at work. The projected, digital clock display on the wall read 3:04 AM. It was not that unusual for some of the very dedicated staff to stay until very late, or pull all-nighters to advance on their projects in the quiet space. But 3am on Christmas?

Tony’s eyes were drawn to the person closest to him – Cute Intern Peter. He was hunched over on a stool with dark circles under his eyes, looking even more tired and down-hearted than Pepper. Tony approached his screens and noticed Peter was scrutinising Tony’s own notes on the Hubble project on one of them – he recognised the handwriting, if scribbling in mid-air and having Friday capture whatever equation or comment he was making. Another held incomplete specs for ‘Mach 6’, looking about half-way done.

This project was way above Peter’s metaphorical paygrade, even after a couple of years more experience under his belt. The kid had potential, but Tony couldn’t imagine handing over any significant part of the project to him. At least, not to work on independently. Maybe under his tutelage, late nights in his private lab…

Tony had to pause on one of those lines of thought, and not the fun one. When was the last time he _taught_ someone something? He’d always preferred to work alone – it was faster – but he knew the importance of legacy and grooming the next generation of brilliant minds.

Peter seemed to be having trouble puzzling out some of his more fractured notes – the kind of thing he thought of mid-project that catapulted a project through dozens of redundant iterations and into something brilliant. However he rarely bothered to write it out in a way that would make sense to someone else – he’d know what he was looking at when he saw it. If anything, he went the opposite way – putting snarky comments on his work so that when others eventually got their hands on the specs, they would understand all the faults and holes Tony had poked in something, or admittedly pompous statements about the leaps and bounds he’d made.

Peter was zooming through such comments now, and Tony was shocked to see his eyes grow red and a tear or two escape down his cheeks.

“I’m never gonna get it. I’m no Tony Stark.” Peter muttered to himself despondently before sighing and putting his screens to sleep.

“Where the fuck am _I_?” he asked, frustrated. At this point, he’d love to kick future Tony’s arse.

With a quick glance back at the thing that looked like Natasha, he realised he would be allowed to follow Peter. He left the lab without any goodbyes, making his way down the corridor instead of heading to the lifts. He walked into one of the smaller meeting rooms behind the labs. In the room was a small couch, with a neatly folded blanket and pillow on top. Peter spread them out, kicking off his shoes before curling up, pulling out his phone to tap out a couple of messages (hopefully one to Surprisingly Attractive Aunt) and set an alarm for 4 hours time before turning over to sleep.

“Alright, now I’m getting pissed off.”

He stomped (silently) out of the room and down the corridor to the lifts, expecting the ghost to follow him. It did, and the lift doors opened before he could try to press the button. They both stood in silent as it started moving, again without a press of a button.

But it was going down.

“No, it’s needs to go-“ Tony snapped, cutting himself off when he looked up into the deep, sombre eyes of the thing he was with.

The doors opened in the foyer, and he knew immediately why they were here instead of the penthouse.

In the middle of the lobby was a gaudy gold statue, at least 20 feet tall. He didn’t have to see the front to know what it was. Firstly, no one else would have a statue in Stark Tower, and secondly, the Iron Man suit was rather distinctive.

He swallowed nervously as he approached it. Dread made his feet drag and his stomach heavy – he did not think he was about to see a vanity statue of a living man.

“I Am Iron Man”

1970 - 2021

Well.

That explained things, he thought numbly.

He wondered how it happened. Stark Tower didn’t seem to have undergone any major re-modelling, and the rest of the view of Manhattan did not have an abnormally large amount of construction and scaffolding. That probably ruled out a major alien attack, as they always seemed to gravitate to New York, and his place in particular.

It was possible there was a ‘battle royale’ somewhere else. Maybe it was another Sokovia. Maybe it was another one-way trip to space.

He had tossed around all possible scenarios that might threaten the Earth and hence eventuate in his death, but funnily enough, he rarely thought about the aftermath.

He was not naïve enough to think that surviving ‘the big one’ would result in happily ever after for everyone. But it was an entirely foreign and novel thought that a world without Tony Stark might be a _bad_ thing. The people he left behind were worse off for his absence.

He was dead, the world was still spinning, people were alive… but that wasn’t enough.

Pepper shouldn’t have to risk missing Christmas Eve with her family because he had not left a trail of ideas and product development to sustain the company through its transition of his demise. The Avengers shouldn’t be squatting in a tiny cottage, branded outcasts and separated from their friends and families because no one reached out to patch up the Accords nonsense. Peter should certainly not be camping out in the office over Christmas, stressed to his eyeballs because he couldn’t keep up with the (brilliant) ramblings of a genius.

Tony’s vision was blurred and his cheeks were wet before he fully realised he was crying.

“This isn’t what I want to happen.” He turned to the ghost watching him.

It tilted its head, Natasha’s brilliant red hair swaying, as though doubting his words.

“You showed me this shit so I can change it, right?” he asked desperately. “I want to stick around. I- I thought I was prepared to sacrifice anything for the cause, but I’m not.”

Still it looked at him, as though he weren’t quite to the point it wanted him to make.

“The work matters, but it’s not everything. I’m going to protect the world, but I’m not going to do it alone. I need to be around for other things too.”

The ghost’s lips turned up gently, a soft nod of its head and then the room faded. He closed his eyes against the dizzying blur, the transition seeming longer and rougher than previous. He struggled to stay on his feet, but with a sudden lurch he stumbled forward onto his knees.

Luckily it was the expensive rug in his living room he collapsed on.

Tony stood unsteadily, gripping the sofa arm to help him. He didn’t make it to his feet, but sitting up like a sober human seemed like a decent step.

The sun was lighting up the windows, the cool light that indicated it was probably just passed dawn.

“Friday?” he asked tentatively.

“Boss, you’re back. You seem unharmed, my scans are not picking up any problems?” she said with a mix of relief and concern.

“No, uh… I think I’m ok. Just… confirm the date for me? Year too?”

“December 25th, 2020, 7:45am.” Friday provided promptly.

Tony heaved a sigh. Seems like his magical, frightening trip was over and he was back to the present.

But not quite back on track yet. He had some phone calls to make.

And some tests to run, but they could wait til Boxing day.


	5. Stave Five: Today Sir? Why, It's Christmas Day!

Tony spent the first half hour of Christmas day briefing Friday on the events of the night before – what she hadn’t seen in his time travel jaunts. This served two purposes – one, having a log made when the memories were freshest for him to review later, and two, putting Friday to work on resolving a number of the issues that had been thrown up.

He would have liked his first call to be the easy one, but Pepper, Happy and Rhodey in California would still be asleep right now.

He didn’t know precisely where Steve, Natasha and the rest of crew were, but he figured the super solider would pick up whatever the time.

Tony held the ridiculous little flip phone, practically a relic, hitting ‘dial’ on the only number programmed in. Of course he could have transferred the number to his Starkphone, but it had seemed more appropriately symbolic to trap Steve on just one, ancient device.

The phone rang four times before, “Hello, Tony?”

He did not respond immediately. Maybe he should have rehearsed this.

“Steve, hope I didn’t wake you up. I know you old folks need your rest.”

His weak joke received a breath of laughter down the line.

“No, no it’s afternoon here. I… I’m surprised to hear from you. I’m glad you called though, really… it’s good to speak to you.” He sounded so tentative and hopeful.

“Yeah. Yeah, you too.”

There was a beat of silence. He could imagine Steve’s big, doe eyes as he waited for him to set the tone, the rules for this encounter.

“Ah… look, this all got out of control. It is well passed time to fix this. I want to set up a meeting with the U.N to renegotiate the Accords and decide on what level of accountability and cooperation will work, because it’s a pile of steaming crap right now. I’ve got some ideas, and I’m sure you do too Cap…”

“Maybe a few.” The deep but gentle voice admitted.

“It would make sense for us to be a united front on this. That’s always how it worked best.” Tony started.

“Tony, that would be… that’d be great, but…”

Tony didn’t need him to finish his sentence to know what he was referring to. ‘But I come with Bucky’.

“So it would make sense for us to catch up first, on something better than a $29 Nokia… maybe I can fly out to you guys in the New Year, we can hash out some of the details?” Tony blazed forward.

“It’d be good to see you face to face, and Nat and the rest… and I probably owe Bucky an apology. I’d like to make it face to face.” He said sincerely.

“Tony- he’s not looking for your apology. Really, how you responded was totally understandable. It’s me that should apologise-“

“Steve, I don’t want us to get into a cycle of feeling like shit whenever we’re around each other.” Tony interrupted bluntly. “I know there’s things that still need to be said, but let’s just agree to say them all at once, put this to bed and think about the future. Ok?”

Steve exhaled audibly. “That’s really considerate. And constructive.”

“I’m a Futurist, trying to make sure we have all the good guys in play. And you know… you all deserve the chance to come home.”

“Thank you.” Was the soft, heartfelt response.

“Look, send me a time and place on the 28th. I’ll clear my schedule til New Years.”

“Ok, we will.”

“Happy Christmas Steve.”

“You as well Tony, Merry Christmas.”

**********************************

Tony slipped down to the labs, planning on staying just long enough to effectively close down a couple of experiments for the next few days. Friday had already sent the email to the employees giving everyone a week of paid leave. They’d all worked amazingly hard during the year, it was well-deserved. He trusted Friday to adjust the flow on to project deadlines without him needing to be involved, and work out arrangements with anyone who would rather save their gifted leave for a less denominational holiday.

It occurred to him now that he probably should have consulted the CEO on this, but given she was one of the key people he wanted taking some time off, he figured Pepper would have to forgive his haste.

He stopped in his tracks when he realised the lab was not as abandoned as it should have been.

“Peter? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Mr Stark! Uh, hi. I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here to see me…”

The young man looked up at him wide-eyed, looking self-consciously down at his- oh, his ‘Ho Ho Ho’ periodic table shirt, jeans and sneakers.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said with a wink, indicating his own uber casual wear, though it was free of embarrassing science puns.

“You shouldn’t be here though. It’s Christmas, go be with your family and have fun with your plans for the day.”

Peter seemed somewhat surprised, though he couldn’t be blamed. Just yesterday Tony was snarking at him for even _having_ plans, now he was ushering him out the door to enjoy them.

“… I just wanted to get some of those specs for the webs down.” He said, indicating the screen in front of him.

Tony let a tiny wince out. “Don’t worry about that, it can wait for the New Year.”

“Oh, I… I don’t mind doing it sir, really. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

His earnestness further softened Tony.

“I’m far from disappointed Pete. You’ve got great potential and I have no intention of burning you out before you can fully realise it. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way yesterday.”

It seemed he just kept throwing Peter for a loop.

“You would have taken the subway here right?”

Peter nodded.

“I tell you what – give me half an hour to close down some stuff, and I’ll drive you back to Queens and your community centre thing when I’m done.”

He hadn’t fully intended to make the offer – his contribution was going to be via distance. But he remembered Peter telling his aunt that he almost invited Tony Stark to their event, and her disbelief. There was a part of him that still delighted in defying other people’s expectations. Plus, it would be interesting to see the parallels between his Christmas vision from last night and reality.

“You don’t have to do that.” Peter said, almost starstruck.

“Come on, how often do you get to drive through New York with traffic as slow as it is on Christmas day?” he joked it off, pulling up his own screens to show that he considered the deal done.

Peter was still looking at him cautiously, like perhaps he had lost his mind, when he ushered him out the door and to the lift. Peter’s eyes lit up when he was led to the Exec garage where Tony kept only a couple of his vehicles.

He led him toward the latest Audi R8 coupe he had managed to make some minor modifications to – such as installing Friday.

“Where to boss?”

From his peripheral vision, he could see Peter was about to burst with curiosity at getting the chance to talk to Friday, but he bit his tongue.

“Well?” Tony asked him with a grin.

Peter rattled off an address and no more.

“You know one of my favourite things about smart guys?” Tony asked idly.

“No?”

“They ask smart questions. Go for it.”

With a bright grin, Peter launched into a fast succession of questions – for both him and Friday. Tony couldn’t help the smile as he zeroed in on Friday’s protocols they generally stayed quiet about – people, as a group, generally weren’t prepared to understand the full extent of Friday’s independence.

They made good time into Queens, pulling into a park right in front of the community centre that was identical to the building Tony had seen the night prior.

Peter seemed surprised when he killed the engine and stepped out, but did not question it when Tony fell into step with him heading inside. Aside from the wonder in his eyes, you would think they had long-standing plans to spend the day together here.

“This is something my parents and my aunt and uncle started, years ago. It used to be small, just a couple of families getting together. My mother and uncle loved to cook, the others were only really trusted to be servers, maybe butter some bread.” Peter said with a fond smile.

“It’s just me and my aunt now, but the rest of the community rallied and we do this every year. Everyone is welcome. Most of the families wouldn’t eat today if it weren’t for the community centre, or would end up at soup kitchens.”

“It’s very generous – if there were more people like you and your aunt, the world would be a much more decent place.” It was too weak a compliment for what he really thought of them, but it pleased Peter nonetheless, his cheeks pink.

Peter led him into the kitchen – the precise path he already knew, and was immediately greeted by his Aunt as soon as he walked in first.

“Peter, honey, I don’t know what’s happening, but we’ve been getting deliveries for the past hour! We’ve got more food than we know what to do with-“ May’s exclaims were abruptly cut-off when she realised who had walked in behind her nephew.

Peter turned too, his expression more suspicious.

“I took the liberty of ordering a few things. I missed my opportunity for the cash injection, so I thought some food and gifts might go down ok. Hope I didn’t step on anyone’s toes.”

Looking around, Friday had been as reliable as ever. She had put in calls to restaurants and bakeries open on Christmas day. Nothing too pretentious of course, and while she would have no doubt run into some reluctance, when the Stark name was dropped and people realised there was Stark cash-tips up for grabs, last-minute custom catering orders became much more achievable.

Friday was also tasked with finding a couple of toy stores that were open – or would open – to deliver a range of presents for different age groups. If these families didn’t have money for food, he could assume that Santa didn’t get a chance to stop by their houses.

“Uh- no! No, it’s great. It’s very generous, thank you Mr Stark…” Attractive Aunt was surprised but her eyes were turning flirty.

“Well, if there’s still a bit of time until lunch, why don’t we finish the tour Pete? Not to toot my own horn, but generally it takes a while to get through all the selfies and handshakes.”

Peter smiled at him warmly, his gaze bordering on adoring – which was nice, even if a bit creepy when lined up against his guardian’s dual interest – and took him to the hall-cum-dining room.

Kids were always the first to recognise him, and he was surrounded by a small ring of outgoing kids and another distant ring of more reserved kids and their parents. He answered their questions about being a superhero – even the questions that usually caught his breath, about the exiled Avengers and space, didn’t overly faze him today. He smiled for photos when the parents picked their jaws off the floor and when he got the inevitable question about why he was here, he just answered that someone he worked with told him about it and it sounded like a good time.

Eventually it simmered down, right in time for the food to be served by the small pack of volunteers.

He was positioned by a beaming Peter behind the table, serving out the food next to each other. Another new experience. But he was pleased to see the tables almost creaking under the weight of all the food, the full plates and people having seconds. He ate a small lunch sitting next to Peter and across from his Aunt and when they were done, he helped carry out the presents to the delighted faces of the children and tearful eyes of the parents.

He excused himself for a few moments, enough time to make a call to Pepper.

She answered the call similar to Steve – surprised, hopeful.

“Tony?”

“Merry Christmas Pepper.”

“Merry Christmas to you too. How are you? What are you up to? This isn’t a work call is it?” her floundering surprise and suspicion was not flattering, but fair.

“I’m – actually, you probably wouldn’t believe where I am. I was calling to see if your offer for Christmas lunch still stands?”

“Of course! Tony, you know you’re always welcome. We’d all be so happy to see you.”

Tony actually felt himself blushing and warming under the genuine affection. It was nice to be wanted, to go somewhere just to _be_.

“I’ll leave soon – 1pm arrival your time ok?”

There was a moment of stunned silence – Pepper probably couldn’t remember the last time Tony made an effort to work to someone else’s timelines. He certainly couldn’t.

“Y-yeah. That’d be perfect actually.”

“Alright, see you soon.”

“Bye.”

**********************************

“Alright kid, I’m headed.”

“Oh, yeah of course. Let me walk you out.” Peter responded, leaping nimbly up from his chair to jog to Tony’s side.

He waved to the chorus of people calling out to him, stepping away before he got ensnared in prolonged goodbyes and thank yous.

“It was really nice of you to come today. And the food and the toys-“

“Friday is the one that organised it all, I just foot the bill.”

“Well, _someone_ asked her to do it, unless she has protocols to spy on your employees and use your credits cards to deploy funds at her discretion.”

“That’s _exactly_ what she’s programmed to do. Except if she finds out bad shit in her deep background, there’s a deployment of coal instead. Which is more expensive, but strongly symbolic.”

Peter laughed, looking over at him with even more admiration. Definitely a crush.

“Enjoy the rest of the day – I expect to see any highlights of the kid’s Avengers sketch, especially if it’s Iron Man that saves the day.”

“If it wasn’t Iron Man saving the day before, he will be now – they all loved you.”

Tony smirked. “Another plan perfectly executed.”

He stripped off his jacket and tossed it through the car window, then pulled the car keys from his pocket, hitting a short sequence. The engine started and lights flickered, Friday smoothly operating the vehicle to pull out of its place and head back to the tower.

Tony watched Peter’s expressive face go through the steps of realisation – from the shocked ‘o’ of the driverless car, to the confused frown as he realised Tony could have put him in the car alone and didn’t need to come, through to a soft, blushing expression as he started to turn over the possibilities of why Tony Stark would have wanted to accompany him to his community centre Christmas.

Tony might be all about the Christmas spirit now, but that didn’t mean he had to give up his flair for drama and mystery. He activated the nanotech gauntlets and chest plate, feeling the familiar sensation of the tech spreading protectively over his body, cushioning him from the cold.

“See you in the New Year kid.”

With that he launched – hard enough that it was impressive, not so forceful that he cracked the pavement leading up to the community centre. Friday was going to be transferring some funds for renovations and community programs so the goodwill could keep tracking after Christmas, and they shouldn’t have to use that money fixing his damage.

He set off on the flight path Friday had calculated for him, letting his mind drift.

He hadn’t fixed everything. But he thought he had made a pretty good start.

He found that he was excited to see Pepper, Happy and Rhodey. And he was looking forward to seeing the rest of the ex-Avengers, even though that came with a shade of nerves. He was excited to get back into Stark Industries too – make some cultural changes, get Peter and some of the bright young folks they went to so much trouble to attract into some stronger mentoring initiatives. Maybe he would even do some more guest lecturing at MIT.

He was practically chipper.

It was nice. He could get used to this.


	6. Stave Six: Another Christmas, But in the Future

_December 25, 2022_

Tony took a quiet moment, nursing his drink and leaning back in his chair to observe the large group assembled with a smile.

Pepper and Happy had opted to spend Christmas in New York this year, Morgan sitting on her father’s lap playing the miniature toys Tony had custom made for them all in the crackers this year. Morgan loved her Uncle Tony – he always made sure to have the funnest toys and coolest magic tricks to impress the toddler.

Natasha was next to her, then Steve and Bucky. Bucky was still a bit uneasy around him from time to time, especially around the holidays, given the timing of Tony’s parent’s death. Tony did what he could to keep the relationship warm and open, which included tune-ups on his arm whenever they were needed to save the trip to Wakanda. That was probably a bad example though, because he probably got more out of it than Bucky – Wakandan tech, especially Shuri’s work, was incredibly impressive.

Bruce was talking to Vision and Wanda right now, though he had spent a large amount of the evening staring after Natasha like a puppy. Those two needed to work their shit out, before Tony locked them both in a closet and hoped they resolved their sexual tension before the Hulk made an appearance.

Sam and Rhodes were also sharing a laugh, rounding out the group of superheroes as Thor was off planet and Clint was with his family upstate.

Most of the group had commitments during the day – goodwill, community spirit, outreach commitments, which is why they only managed to cluster together at 6. In fact, these commitments spanned a lot of the year now. The New Avengers were as much about outreach programs as they were about dealing with world threats, with Tony and Stark Industries on the front foot.

Everyone had greeted his new leaf with a response ranging from surprise to scepticism.

“I’m not giving up on saving the world,” he had told them. “But I am recognising that it is not a finite job, and the more people that share the goal, the better. So suck up your shock and get on board.”

It was turning out great, and not just from a PR standpoint (though that helped, with Ross spitting that he had been beaten over the Accords). But his biggest support and advocate was-

“You’re looking way too introspective for family Christmas dinner.” Peter said, leaning into Tony’s side.

Tony turned to him with a smile – it was hard _not_ to smile around Peter. He had lasted 3 months after his time-travelling Christmas before he asked Peter out. It was torturous weeks of one on one mentoring, working through web shooters and more of Tony’s personal projects. The intern had been so clearly and utterly besotted with him, and Tony hadn’t been much better. He straddled the line between adorable and sweet, and sexy and cheeky, and that amazing brain of his made Tony want to sing.

It had taken a very clear discussion about consent and confronting the power imbalance in their relationship for Tony to take the next step. Of course, that was _after_ Peter had braved planting one on him in his private lab, and the steamy little make out session that entailed.

Now they were still going strong – strong enough the Tony was ring shopping. He was increasingly leaning toward designing a ring, something impressive and multi-functional. But that was not a gift for this Christmas.

“I was wondering why Steve hates us all.” He said with a baiting smirk.

Peter’s eyebrows were raised and his comment also managed to grab Steve’s attention.

“What do you mean?” They were mostly comfortable with teasing each other again, but like Bucky, Steve sometimes stepped just a bit too tentatively around Tony.

“It just seems cruel to deny us the joy of a real live Santa.” He finished with mock-seriousness.

Steve rolled his eyes, and his shoulders relaxed minutely.

“I told you-“

“I got the costume and everything. You know how much effort Friday had to go to in order to get a high-end, genuine Santa suit that would fit your shoulders and not gape around your waist?”

“I don’t think I’m the best candidate…”

“I asked Fury and he told me to fuck off.” Tony joked.

“Language.” Steve reminded him with a smile, Tony throwing his hands up in mock surrender but enjoying the laughs as more of the group tuned into their exchange.

“You’re the oldest, it’s practically an honour.” Tony wheedled.

“C’mon, just try it on.” Peter teased with a bright grin.

“Doooo ittttt.” Rhodey needled.

Soon a mix of encouragements turned into a chant of ‘do it’, everyone grinning at Steve’s embarrassment except Morgan who looked intrigued and excited about the stir.

Even Bucky cracked a grin and joined in the chanting. Tony privately thought that was what truly changed Steve’s mind and made him heave himself up with a put-upon sigh and go to fetch the costume to the cheers of those gathered. The potential to get Bucky perching on his lap was probably part of the temptation too. Jeez, this group as a whole really needed to get passed their hang ups that were keeping them from their happiness.

Not him though, he thought as he slipped his fingers through Peter’s. He was embracing his.

He didn’t let go of Peter’s hand even as Steve stepped back into the room in fully crimson suit and white, fluffy beard – which he had to tug down for Morgan, who only sat on his lap once she was comfortable with the fact that it was Uncle Steve underneath all the silliness. He kept hold of Peter’s hand as Peter leaned in and salaciously whispered whose lap he would most like to be sitting on tonight, squeezing it as they exchanged a cheeky kiss. He only let go when they all crowded against one of the tower walls, looping his whole arm around him instead, and the other around Vision as they posed with cheesy grins and paper hats for Friday to take a picture.

That was one for the wall.

Maybe the ‘big one’ was still coming, or maybe it was their joint destiny to keep fighting off individual megalomaniacs or pocket organisations hell-bent on world domination or the death of the Avengers. Whatever. They were going to live their lives, and when they did fight, they were going to fight not just for the innocent or defenseless people in the world – they were going to fight to return to this family, to their friends and other loved ones.

And they’d do it together.


End file.
